Page 6 of Beyond Enemy Vows
Connor laughs. "I can see you’re definitely not a whiskey drinker."
"No, Jesus. How do you?—"
"My uncle distills it. Makes me stock it or he'll disown me."
"Oh. It's great."
Connor laughs. "Few more sips and it gets better. If it doesn't, I'll buy your next drink."
I shake my head and take another sip. I don't want to be rude.
"Okay, it's a little better." I lie.
"So, what brings you to our corner of the world?"
"Peace and quiet. Life's a bit complicated right now." I allow myself a genuine smile.
"Ohhh," he says and whistles. "Sounds serious." His Irish charm makes me laugh.
"No, no. Just three overprotective brothers," I say and take a sip, coughing again. "This," I continue, "this is good, Connor."
He laughs and takes it from my hands. "I'll get you some red wine."
"Thank you," I say and nod. "Don't tell your uncle."
"Don't worry. Secret's safe with me," he says and slides a glass of red wine in front of me.
I take a sip. "Okay, I like this."
"Good. Now, about your brothers. I've got four sisters myself. All convinced I'll die alone without their help."
"See," I say, setting my glass down, "I don't even interfere with their lives. But being the youngest, they think it's their right."
"Ah, hold on a second," he says as he moves away to serve another customer, then drifts back. "So, here alone long?"
"Friends coming in soon. Thought I needed some time alone before they arrived."
"And now you need some company instead?"
I raise an eyebrow. "Just conversation."
"Fair enough. I'm good at that. Mind if I pour a drink and chat with you?"
I stare at him for a moment. "Sure."
For the next half hour, I feel almost normal. Connor tells me about local legends, makes me laugh with stories about tourists who've come through, recommends places I should visit. I don't have to think about family obligations or Ares's expectations or anyone else. Here, I'm just an American tourist having a drink.
When Connor reaches across the bar to point out a photograph on the wall, his fingers brush against mine. It's nothing, casual and fleeting, but it's the first human contact I've had in days, and I realize how touch-starved I've been in my solitude.
"That's old Finn Murphy there. Comes in most nights. Claims he saw the Dobhar-Chú, Ireland's Loch Ness monster. Of course, nobody believed him, but he?—"
"She's done drinking."
I freeze, the glass halfway to my lips.
Connor looks up, his easy expression hardening. "Sir, can I help you with?—"
"No." The voice is quiet, low, but it drips with possession. Command.
